


Ginger Town

by Winterswild



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Cell Games Saga, Gen, Suspense, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-17
Updated: 2020-12-17
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:28:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28133955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Winterswild/pseuds/Winterswild
Summary: Who watches the watcher?
Comments: 1
Kudos: 5





	Ginger Town

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own Dragonball Z.

Power. It was rippling through his being, humming its sweet tune in his bones and racing in his blood. The wind whipped his skin as he flew but he couldn’t feel it, he couldn’t feel anything, he could feel everything. A distant kind of numb excitement was all that his mind would communicate now. The fusion had left him feeling exactly that. Fused, melted. This was so much stronger than before, when he had done the same thing on Namek. His mind struggled to keep up with his own thoughts but he ignored it as he dropped further from the Lookout. Kami had warned him there may be some side effects. He hadn’t heeded the warning, in fact, he had been reluctant, scared even. 

Chi swam around him as he flew, and he tried to focus it on the place he had last sensed the creature. Through the dull ache of the fusion, fear and insecurity began to mount along with a hollow uselessness. At this point, the very word android made him want to spit unwelcome vomit out from the back of his throat. Underneath the fear, there lingered concern and he allowed himself a moment to dwell on it. He wished he hadn’t.

_ I don’t know, Gohan might get the heart virus, if full blooded Saiyans are vulnerable then everyone is _ . The rest went unsaid, that Gohan might not be as strong, as he was only half Saiyan. Bulma’s voice cracked when she said it.

Of course there was no reason to think like that, except Piccolo couldn’t help it. It was the only time in this world he had shared a look with Chi-chi and they had felt the same thing, other than mutual hatred. He had since tried to bury the useless worry along with everything else and now here he was, searching for another bringer of such bad things. The town came up over the horizon quickly, tall buildings darkly silhouetted against the bright sky. Oddly, and sadly, it was a nice day.

His stomach fell flat as he realised that the normal sounds he would start to hear were conspicuously absent. The thrum of engines and the current in electric power wires, the chatter of humans and the screaming of floricking offspring; now nothing but a memory in the breeze. A breeze which now felt as biting as it is in the mountains, even in the bright sunshine. He would have shivered but the numbness, and his pride, remained. His senses felt blown, and an odd thought of his body being filled with burned out fuses entered his head. All the talk of androids was getting to him.

The city came into full view, and he slowed as he peered down. Ebony depths searching. The buildings looked intact, standing there in their mismatching colours, all domes and towers. He stopped abruptly in mid air and dropped. The white cape he wore flew up around his long ears as he descended, only to come to scuff the floor as his shoes touched the ground so softly. The tarmac under his feet felt strange and he looked down at the dark black road. Just another thing that looked human. He remembered a time when such an association would make him scoff and feel rancid, but now, it felt like Gohan. All these things were a part of that boy. This was what made him so sweet. An ache filled his chest and he almost rolled his eyes at the alien feeling. The numb was wearing off. 

The city sign hung just in his periphery, although it was leaning to one side where a car had unceremoniously met its end in its metal pole. He didn’t need to check the car, any human in there would be dead, and if they weren’t, their heart would be beating in his ear drums. The metal of the sign was slightly rusted and would creak every time the wind caught up. Big black bold print read:

**You are now leaving Ginger Town!**

**We’re watching, so watch your speed**

Piccolo heard the sign creak again as he turned around, circling slowly. He could see bundles of coloured cloth dotted around and he frowned when he stepped on what looked to be a pair of worn blue jeans. Everywhere around him, clothes lay and people didn’t. The silence continued on and he started to walk, feet meeting the ground as softly as he could manage. If there was anything his Namekian frame was good for, it was stepping lightly. A car door opened and he whirled around, an unwelcome sort of dread crawling up his spine. The car was just parked, door slightly ajar, with the breeze pulling at its old hinges. Piccolo let out a breath he would never admit to holding. This scene was too eerie, too empty. He felt on edge and off kilter. This creature was somewhere here, hiding in the silence, and it made him feel uncomfortable.

Another step, he looked inside the car window and again he could see more colourful fabric. A bright pink dress was strewn across the car seat and a set of pearls had dropped to the vehicle’s floor. He frowned inside. He could see where her nail polish had chipped against the dashboard and left grooves in the plastic. That hollow sadness returned and he wished he could have the dullness back. He pushed away from the car and walked further, seeing nothing but clothes and...nothing. The small grass verge fluttered and the buildings remained grey.

Even in the far reaching silence, Piccolo knew the creature was here. Its presence was sitting in his gut, its darkness making his antennae rigid. He stood in the road, long legs still and arms tense by his sides, dark eyes waiting.

Cell stood on one of the dome buildings, stone crumbling underneath his feet. He watched as some of the stone tumbled to the ground below and he risked a glance at the Namek’s back. It wouldn’t take much for those Namekian ears to flicker. Cell’s thick tail swung behind his form, an anticipation building as he watched the watcher. Piccolo’s breathing had slowed and he had closed his eyes to sense the creature, hear its breathing, anything. Cell smiled, or did something that might pass for it. He admired Piccolo, and was somewhat glad that the Namek would be the first of the Z fighters to be absorbed. The power that was radiating from the jade warrior made Cell’s spine tingle. It was exhilarating. 

He moved closer, being incredibly careful not to make a single sound. It would only be a matter of time before the Namek noticed him, so he had to be swift. He stopped just an arm’s length away from Piccolo’s cape and his dark pupils watched it sway in the breeze. The forest green skin of his arms was exposed and Cell had to stop himself from breathing in sick desire. To touch that skin, to feel that strength beneath his claws, melting away. He reached out, his spotted fingers moving forward, a talon almost touching the other’s arm. He felt like a predator, but he didn’t want the rush of the kill, he wanted the long, drawn out whimper.

Piccolo knew he was there, had known he was there for some time. The movement was so slow, creeping along the ground in its vile way, to come here and lurk behind him. He was waiting for the moment, the fraction of a second that he would shift and Piccolo would spin around. The seconds rolled by and the Namek’s eyes stared ahead in barely contained tumultuous emotion. His muscles were so tense he thought that the creature might hear his tendons creak, as loud as that sign hanging from its broken pole. He waited, inanimately still, while that creature’s eyes burned holes in his back. The thought that this might be foolish, that he was playing with hellfire, had occurred, but it was pushed down along with everything else. The fusion had made him a little fool hardy perhaps, it had made him too powerful and arrogant to care. He felt the whisper of the thing’s hand withdraw as the sign moaned and Piccolo took his cue, he spun around at such a speed that Cell barely had time to throw up his forearms. He delivered a swift, strong roundhouse kick to the creature’s torso, sending him sprawling through the tarmac. 

A quiet sort of arrogance graced his emerald features as he smirked, before he came at Cell with full force. 


End file.
